Nine Levels of Hell
by KiraraKERI
Summary: Hell can be measured in different ways. There is the biblical one in the afterlife, and there is the one right now.


Hey! This is Keri. As you may or may not care, my story was deleted boos before for an "inappropriate" summary. Thanks to Vampyra Martin kisses and hugs I have my original story back! Yay!

As for the next chapter, its going under major reconstruction. Let's just say I had a character appear, but it just didn't fit.

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rawlings. I do not intend to be. I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters that I use in this story. I am simply a poor writer using another's characters for my own sick purposes. The plot is mine.

_Dedicated to Vampyra Martin_. Still thanks!

**Purgatory **

You have escaped damnation and made it to Purgatory, a place where the dew of repentance washes off the stain of sin and girds the spirit with humility. Through contrition, confession, and satisfaction by works of righteousness, you must make your way up the mountain. As the sins are cleansed from your soul, you will be illuminated by the Sun of Divine Grace, and you will join other souls, smiling and happy, upon the summit of this mountain. Before long you will know the joys of Paradise as you ascend to the ethereal realm of Heaven.

-

For Draco Malfoy, Christmas holidays were never particularly fun at home. His father was always less than pleasant and his mother was always less and less there, mentally. But that was his life, his home life. It wasn't as fascinating as he often described to his friends at Hogwarts. Parties were not held every evening in his honor, nor did he wave away lines of girls waiting to be a service to him. His presence was rarely acknowledged, except maybe by a few daytime visitors.

As he got older, things became increasing unpleasant. With the dark lord's ever looming existence, Draco's father would become ever more lacking. Very little was he ever there for his son, except as a financial support for his extravagant lifestyle.

Although his father was rarely in attendance, Draco had learned one thing from his father. Perhaps, it was the most important lesson he had to learn, it was the hatred of muggles. The dirty disgusting creatures that dirtied the world with their mud toys and ridiculous metallic weapons.

-

_Lucius Malfoy sat at the head of the dinning table. Draco sat at the far left, away from the grownups and barely in sight. Narcissa Malfoy sat by Lucius. She laughed and flounced her curly blond hair. Draco's nurse sternly picked up the fork that Draco slid down the waxed tiled floor and continued to force the young boy to eat his food. _

_Lucius ignored his son's ruckus. That damn boy was a little too noisy for his liking. He sipped from his goblet of Fire Whiskey and sneered. "It is ridiculous that the Ministry would appoint Cornelius Fudge as the replacement Minister of Magic. The bloody Ministry has no damn idea how to run the place. That prick has no more sense of what he is doing than that mudblood-loving pug-faced Weasley."_

_The crowd agreed to the unpleasant comment and remarked on the terribleness and began pointing out other glitches in the Ministry. Amoung the table of people sat many Ministry members themselves._

_Draco burped and clapped his chubby, little hands together. He gripped his spoon and tried to cut his food like his father. The nurse took his spoon away and Draco grabbed the poor nurse's collar and yanked it hard. Lucius glared at his son and continued to ignore his presence. _

"_They are so blinded by the fact that the Dark Lord is gone that they will hand just about anybody power." Some people snickered at the double meaning. _

"_The mudbloods are cheering. Many societies and hidden towns have materialized overnight. We'll be swarming with them by the time our Lord comes back." _

_Lucius frowned at the man's comment. "Mudblood, muggles, half-bloods, they're all the same. Dirty, filthy, rats. The day will come when they have their reckoning and the true rulers will rise. Our cause will be all fulfilled. To the dirty mudbloods."_

_Lucius held up his goblet and the others mimicked him. Draco lifted up his plastic cup and waved it around like the others. "To the dirty mudbloods." They clanked each other's goblets and took a big swig of whiskey._

_Draco shouted "Muddle Muddle" and sipped his juice. _

-

The day of reckoning was shit. Draco should have known, he was there. Death Eaters were lost and frantic, running through the mazes that were the catacombs. At the final battle, Death Eaters and Aurors alike were together in chaos. Together hundreds of them died, trapped inside, and without body recoverance. The Dark Lord had been trying to resurrect Ragnarok, the supposed mythological creature that muggles wrote about as fable. Contrary to Norse Mythology, Ragnarok had been an actually person and had brought the destruction of Earth 500 million years ago. At that time, early wizards had trapped him in stone and buried him deep within the fire of a volcano. His body was said to have been buried far beneath Rome deeper than the catacombs went. And so the Dark Lord brought them down. Deep in the labyrinth of catacombs, the Order ambushed them. They had hidden themselves within the selves where the dead were placed.

Draco remembered the screaming and sounds of flesh against things. At night he sometimes relived the memories and found himself back in the catacombs as it fell down over there heads. Sometimes he was still there and trapped and burning with the rest.

Then they would reach hell. Hell was hell. Even though he did not believe in God, he believed in Hell. Muggles and mudbloods didn't go to the same place after death; that was impossible. But in his dreams, it was not the muggles in hell, it was him. He was being burned forever on a pyre while demons poked at his organs and made him die again and again.

The Dark Lord would have had a chance, if the Ragnarok was indeed beneath the earth. But he had not done his research. In the late 1700s, Christian archaeologists had been digging in a rural area around Rome. They had stumbled into a large underground tomb, going down with a seemingly endless drop. Their presence had disturbed the tomb and it collapsed trapping the two archaeologists. The wizards had entrapped Ragnarok with no intention of its resurrection.

-

_His legs were numb from sitting on them for so long. Draco's head was bent over a book as he read his pledge of alliance. People around him hummed the same pledge. _

_Draco was cold and wet. The mushy dirt beneath him sank against his weight. The musty air was centuries old and undisturbed. He kept his head down and waited for approval._

_The catacombs were quiet. Outside in another section, Draco could hear the low chanting of the Dark Lord. The near black darkness of the room seemed to carry his voice. The Lord's voice could be heard from the miles down he was. Draco could feel his vibrations beneath his legs. _

_Draco had always glorified his day of emission. The day he would become a real Death Eater and serve his Dark Lord by name. Megalomaniac. Draco had pictured himself as a member of the higher order. An important person in the Dark Lord's eye. Perhaps that was where he could find glory. Perhaps he could become his successor. _

_Draco raised his head a little and peered over his book. So many other young boys and girls around him crouched over their books, all clad in the same black hooded cloak. All of them pledging allegiance to their Lord. He wasn't even there to see it._

_A foot pushed Draco's face into his book._

"_Keep on chanting, boy." Lucius hissed at Draco._

_Draco glared at his book as he continued to read. They were treated like scum, like prisoners from the other side. An older member spat on a newbie. They enjoyed testing curses and charms on others and sometimes raped girls and boys alike. _

_It wasn't enough that he had passed his every task. It didn't make him any more special than the others in this room. The strong and the weak alike were all together being admitted as a Death Eater. They had undergone rigorous training and tests. Very few of them passed. Millicent Bulstrode had failed half of her unforgivable cures. She was sitting in front of him. Goyle and Crabbe hadn't even finished any of their tasks, and they yet they were crouching in the back. And Blaise Zabini, he had refused to kill a muggle, but that bastard was here chanting along with the others._

_Draco had passed, he had done his tasks, and he had raped and killed an innocence muggle. Nobody cared shit. He was just another stupid follower. _

_As each person finished, they kissed the book and them the ground and sat up. The senior Death Eaters nodded to each person. They waited. _

-

Draco sat alone at breakfast. A corny ghost sang Christmas Carols near the entrance. Across from his table was a small group of the "left behind" huddled together pretending to have anything interesting to talk about. Draco glared at them.

Christmas holidays. Damn Christmas holidays.

Nobody ever stayed at school during the holidays. There were no parties. There was no merriment. The school only stayed open as a curtsey. No one ever wanted to stay.

Only those who had nowhere else to go stayed. They were losers.

Draco continued to stare a hole into the back of a boy his year. More than once the boy looked around to the prickly feeling abetting him. What was the kid's name? Justin, Justin Somebody. Draco knew the guy's face after hearing some nasty rumors about him back in September. He was a muggle in Hufflepuff, so Draco had never really bothered to notice the guy. It turned out he was from a lousy family. His mother was a prostitute and his father was a deadbeat living in Florida. A girl in Ravenclaw had come out of a club one night in July and had seen his mom get into a car with some old pervert. Justin hadn't spoken to anyone since.

Draco sipped his pumpkin juice and swirled it around in his mouth. He had nowhere to go and nothing to do.

No friend to talk to. No enemy to piss off. No friendly whore to fuck.

Perhaps the only thing that kept him going was the boxes of muggle cigarettes that he'd smoke until his lungs spew tar.

-

Hermione sighed and flipped to the next page in Hogwarts: A History.

_Ross snaked his arm around her waist and led her through the house and out into the empty stables outside. Finch, although enjoying the danger, opposed to his overbearingness. Ross pushed her against a stable door and gripped her by the hips. _

_He busied his lips against hers and they suddenly found themselves grinding vigorously against one another. She groaned softly as he unfolded her chemisette and untied her bodice. The corset pushed her small breasts up and tilted her nipples. Ross ravaged her and kissed her neck shoulders and breasts. _

_Finch's hands entangled into his messy locks. He wrapped his tongue around a swollen nipple. She sagged against the door._

"_Ah, Finch, see what you make me do." He said in his vague Scottish brogue. _

Hermione's eyes widened as Finch and Ross made love in ahorse stable on top of hay.

On the outside, it may have said Hogwarts: A History, but the inside held the contents of a trashy muggle romance novel. Hermione had a fetish for romances set during Victorian England.

Hermione was embarrassed to know that she could possibly have any thoughts other than anything innocent. When she first began reading romance novels in her third year, Hermione would cast disguising charms on her books. One would be Spells and More, well the original title did have More in it, while another would be Creating a Gringots Worth of Success, and another, when she was feeling more creative, was Hurling a Tree into a Crowded Street: The True Life of a Warted Toad. By then, Harry and Ron didn't care what she was reading; they thought she was reading another boring text book.

Good thing they had never had enough interest to ask.

Now she just stuck with Hogwarts: A History. Once Ron commented on how much she loved the book. She remarked on how much he needed to read books.

Hermione closed her book and sighed. She had come in hours earlier with every intention of studying for NEWTS. She ended up reading her book.

She knew that the NEWTS was a year away, but she always had an itching feeling to study.

The sun was gone overhead as she gathered her books and made her way out of the library. Hermione shivered as the cold, damp hall atmosphere surrounded her. She would never admit it to Harry or Ron, but she was terrified of being alone. Even in the desolate library she was comforted at least by the books and fire.

Hermione remembered fifth year when her duties as a Prefect took her down throughout the ground level and dungeon at night. She would always patrol the area in a half walk, half sprint and be done in a few minutes. Because unlike a monster under your bed, the monsters at Hogwarts were real.

-

Draco was sprawled on a Slytherin couch. He only just realized how dreadful the common room was. The furnishings were a combination of silver and green and lushly furnished in silk, but everything screamed alone. The cold room gripped him by the tie and screamed for him to look around, people were missing.

Draco knew that everyone was on vacation. Duh, they wouldn't be caught dead still here. Draco also knew that some people weren't gone just for vacation. Many of his companions were dead. Died in the fire. Died at the hands of the Order. Or dead at the feat of the Dark Lord.

Goyle had been killed while trying to escape. Blaise was captured and sentenced to Azkaban, where he essentially became crazy. And Pansy Parkinson, well she was somewhere else, perhaps in France where she'd always wanted their honeymoon to be. Other Slytherins were also missing on that day at Platform 9 3/4. Draco hadn't a clue what happened to them.

-

_Draco's robe was deep in shit as he continued to kneel in the dirt. His cloak was soaked with the cold moisture of the atmosphere. His throat burned from hours of humming. Draco shivered under his cloak._

_The place was shaking and Draco could feel immense power coming from beneath him. The Dark Lord was summoning Ragnarok and all the spirits around him. The cavern shook and Draco wasfrightened that the whole place would collapse. _

_Suddenly a wave of power struck them all and Draco was thrown back into a person. The Death Eaters instantly jumped up and hurried down the hall. Draco and the other newbies stood up and cared for their bruises and bumps. They thought little about the sounds echoing around them._

_Blue and white sparks, and green bolts of lightningwent down into the crowdand chaos began. Hundreds of Aurors ran down the hall, shooting spells and curses into the crowd. Forever it seemed, hundreds of men and women and ghosts and monsters poured through the walls and doorways. And like two colours of paint, Death Eaters and Aurors ran together. _

_In the almost darkness, it was almost impossible to tell enemy from friend. Draco fought for his life. He fought for his friends. He fought to get out. He'd never uttered as many curses combined in his life than that night. Aurors and Death Eaters alike were thrown back if they were in his way._

_Draco remembered the cries and screams and the sound of bodies being stepped on. He had crawled away from the mess and was running down a catacomb or up or upside-down. He didn't know were he was going. _

_Some others had escaped and were running along with him. Their shoes echoed throughout the catacombs. In a few minutes, there would be people chasing them._

_-_

Draco lit another cigarette and took a long drag. He held the smoke in his mouth until his head was spinning. He let it out in a cloud above his head. Draco played with the knife in his other hand, switching it open and close. The useless muggle blade had been coated with venom and magic. With one nick on a person's arm, that person would bleed forever. He stuck the blade in the couch and twisted. The seams of the couch ripped. Draco smirked at the sound of ripping.

-

_As he predicted, an Auror broke away from the group and began to pursue them. He shot curses and Draco shoot countercurses. Neither side was yet down. The people with him did not help. One person had no wand. The other two were helping a man limp along. He slowed the group down a bit. _

_Draco yelled disarming charms and other curses, but the person countered all of his attacks. Draco prayed to Merlin that the person would slip up._

_The person shot a petrifying curse and one of the people crutching the man fell forward. Draco kept running and didn't look behind. The other figure next to him disappeared into the darkness. _

_Draco cried and ran. His legs ached and cramped as he flew away. The musty damp air grew thicker and damper. His heart pounded in his ears and head. The fear pounded. Bu. Beat. Bu-duh. His tears swelled up in his eyes, and everything around him ached. Bu. Beat. Bu-duh._

_Screaming. The distant sound that came from somewhere. Anywhere. But him. It was him._

_No. No. No. No. Hell. Fuck. Shit, nothing was right. _

_He'd run into a dead end. There was no escape. He, Draco Malfoy of the pure-blooded line, was trapped. Impossible that he was clawing and clutching at a wall like a rat in a cage. Draco groped at the wall searching for a ladder or miracle. Blunt finger nails scratched at the dirt and only managed to claw the wall like a cat._

_Expelliarmus. His wand slipped away. _

_-_

Draco discarded his cigarette and lit another before the first had burnt out completely.

He dragged the knife down the couch until the furniture was completely ruined. Satisfied, he flipped close his blade and tucked it into his cloak.

-

_The man in front of him was not a man, or so Draco thought. She or he had not killed him, yet. It just watched him and smiled. _

_"Will you come willingly" asked the figure as it lowered its hood. It was most definitely a woman. She had a very pretty face and, oddly enough, bright pink hair. Beneath the dim light of the lumos, Draco could see her purse her lips as if expecting an answer. She smiled at him as if she knew he wasn't that bad. _

_Draco glared at the woman, but nodded just the same. He pulled his hood tighter over his head to make sure she did not see his face. _

_Beckoning him forward, she spoke"I know you're a kid. Don't try anything that will get you killed. I can sense people and movement through the feel of energy. I don't want to have to kill you."_

_Draco walked forward. He descended at a slow, ominous pace. Draco slipped his hands into his pockets and crouched lower than normal. He'd learned how to be cold from his father. He'd learned how to stop all energy and aura from the Dark Lord. She would feel it as submission. _

_Draco gripped a smooth, cold object in his pocket. She watched him walk to her, all the while pointing her wand at his chest. Tonks laughed a little as the kid walked depressingly to her. He looked like he wanted to shrink into himself and die. She kind of felt sorry for him. _

_The closer he got, the slower he got and the looser she became. His energy felt drained and she subconsciously let her guard down._

_-_

Draco remembered her crumple to the ground after he'd thrown the blade at her. From the ten feet away, the blade had embedded somewhere within her chest. She'd shot clumsy attacks that he avoided easily. The knife was ancient metal dipped in snake blood and venom. If she didn't die from loss of blood, she would die from poison.

Draco got off his arse and stretched. He'd been lying there all day accomplishing nothing and then some. Draco's stomach rumbled and he looked outside. It must have been after eight.

He left the common room to go to the kitchens.


End file.
